


Kissed by Fire

by Sara2o2



Series: One Shots [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Rating: 16, The Free Folk, Wildlings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:43:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara2o2/pseuds/Sara2o2
Summary: "She loved many things.She loved dancing, singing uneven, running untill she was out of breath, brutally riding his cock until she was sore and limping, the thrill of hunting, the night sky full of sparkling stars and the full moon, and they say she was born on her two feet and running, always moving, always in motion.[...]And even though she hates death, because there's been so much, too much death, she loves fighting over all. "





	

He once loved a girl with wild fiery red hair.

Her hair was unruly, curly, in knots, with two braids tucked behind each of her ears, red like the sky in twilight and the free folk called her 'kissed by fire', lucky, for it. Her eyes were blue, like the cloudless sky on a warm day, in excitement and dark blue, like the depths of the knight sky, in lust. Her smile was as sharp as the valyrian-steel sword she always carried with her and the dragonglass tips of the arrows she shoots, and her laugh was a deep-full-belly laugh, loud and carefree, and her chuckles were light, melodic, like the chiming of bells. And her lips were naturally a deep peachy colour, full and soft. Her fingers were long, swift, quick and slim, her pads callused from training with bow and arrow and sword. Her body was slim, covered with lean muscles built for speed and swift strength, rather than brutal strength. And though her breasts weren't big, they were round, perky, soft and fit just so perfectly into his hands. She didn't have wide hips, she had small curved hips, a slim muscled stomach, long, lean muscled legs, and at her center she was flushed pink below a patch of curled red hair.

He got addicted to the sounds she made when he touched her. Her sighs were soft when he trailed his mouth down her neck, her moans were lustful, when he kissed her nipples, her sobs heartfelt, when he flicked her clit with his tongue, she clenched down deliciously around him, when he hit that bundle of nerves inside her just right, and her screams were with her whole being, when he brought her to the tip.

She loved many things.

She loved dancing, singing uneven, running untill she was out of breath, brutally riding his cock until she was sore and limping, the thrill of hunting, the night sky full of sparkling stars and the full moon, and they say she was born on her two feet and running, always moving, always in motion. She loved the beach and the ocean, the feel of sand between her toes and waves crashing against her back. The first time he saw her swim, she took to the water like a fish, gliding through the waves and moving, and twisting as if she were a sea snake.

She said she loved tangling her fingers in his hair, seeing his eyes fill with love, adoration and awe when looking at her, the way he smiled crookedly, dashingly, the way he said "I love you", the way his hair curled when drying, the way he fought, the way his fingers curled around hers, the feel of the stubble on his face tickling her thighs, his lips forming a smile against her core, and the feel of him inside of her.

And even though she hates death, because she has seen so much, too much death, she loves fighting over all. She loves the thrill she gets, when she just so manges to duck, the feel of steel against steel, the harsh slap of skin against skin, the satisfaction of an arrow hitting its target, the chaos, simplicity, rush of battle, the possibility that every moment, every movement, every breath could be your last.

She loved all these things till her last.

She died as she had lived, in motion, never giving up, never giving in, always moving forward, never hesitating, fighting five men at once, in chaos. After defeating them, an arrow struck her, plunging straight into her heart, and she fell.

He had held her, rocking her dead body in his arms, as the world froze for a moment for him, as the chaos and rush of battle continuing to bustle around him. His heart had bled and still did. A hole had been ripped inside of it and it would never be whole again.

But in the end, the world had kept turning.

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed. I hope whoever reads this, likes it. The unnamed characters are based of "A Song of Ice and Fire" characters Ygritte and Jon Snow.


End file.
